Groomed For Love: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance by Flora Ferrari (hardest books to read txt) 📗

I only become aware of the silence once Moose calms down enough to be let down, and his master’s eyes are scanning my body much the same way mine were his.

Except I’m nothing to look at. Not in gray sweats and a white T-shirt with holes in it courtesy of Moose the dog, and a stain I hope still looks like marinara sauce.

I feel myself blush once it registers the man’s scrutinizing cop’s stare is solely focused on my body.

I’m shy even on a good day, but when a perfect ten is eyeballing me in my jammies, it’s too much.

Guess I’ll just die then.

He lets out a low sound, almost a growl.

I think for a second that Moose is growling, but he’s panting happily, looking up with loving eyes now that his dad’s come to pick him up.

The man’s lips curl into a satisfied grin on his chiseled face, the ginormous bulge at the front of his pants seems to have shifted as much as my chest has stiffened too.

My head tells me it’s the pleats in his pants, or the light, I try not to stare, but his low sounds only become deeper once he sees me unable to take my eyes off his thickening crotch.

A small, whimpering sound escapes me, and I feel a line of sudden, very hot wetness between my legs as I realize I’ve been pressing them together the whole time.

Something about the man, his presence, his cologne.

That dark hair and even darker eyes.

His everything. Tall, dark, and handsome if ever there was another that walked the earth.

I feel like getting down on all fours myself, barking at him to put a leash on me and make me do whatever he tells me to.

He’s magnificent.

Moose barks loudly, shattering the moment, but his master’s not looking any less pleased with either of us.

Suddenly kneeling down to pet his friend, Officer Parker ruffles Moose’s fur and nuzzles his face into his neck.

“I thought you had a bath, boy?” he murmurs, looking up at me, his penetrating eyes dancing with a friendly question.

“Uh… We had a problem yesterday, Officer Parker,” I stammer, covering my chest with folded arms, trying not to moan loudly once I brush my own bullet-hard nipples with them.

I shiver and feel my knees start to tremble. Like I’m about to burst down there if something doesn’t happen to make this stop.

Or make something happen to relieve this delicious pressure inside me.

He doesn’t skip a beat, only cocking his brow as he seems to inhale the air between us with flared nostrils before giving another of his satisfied growls.

“So I heard,” he remarks. “Is Sasha okay? I’ve been trying to reach her all morning. And you too,” he adds, suddenly looking serious before standing up, looming over me.

Instead of feeling worried, I want him to get closer. I feel like burying myself in those huge arms, holding onto him, and never letting go.

His whole aura just feels so safe, so warm and inviting.

Giving off a definite return signal of whatever it is I’m broadcasting.

My best attempt at flirty-sexy?

I wouldn’t know, I’ve never even tried. But if standing in my doorway, practically whining in my jammies, about to cream my own panties counts, then I’m a fast learner.

“Your address and number in the salon window was a stupid thing to do,” he says suddenly, making me feel a stab of hurt in my heart that until now has been doing somersaults.

He’s not angry, but concerned. Like overprotective concerned.

I guess he is a cop after all, and his job is to keep people safe.

“But I…” I try to tell him, not able to hide my hurt, and before I know it, the only wetness I can share with him is the tears streaming down my cheeks.

I’ve probably lost my job anyway, probably about to be sued for trying to kill my boss too. And now the cop in charge of Moose is at my door, wondering why I haven’t even bathed his dog and probably thinking I’m a halfwit for advertising my address and cell number to an entire city block.

He frowns, looking down at his feet before he looks up at me again.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he says apologetically. “And please don’t call me Officer Parker. Just Parker,” he adds, as I sniff and run the back of my hand across my face.

“I just meant it’s dangerous for a pretty young lady to go posting her address in a window is all…” he sighs, a hand almost reaching out for me, but falling before he can commit to it.

Did he just call me pretty?

I want to ask him in, to do something to make him stay just a little longer, but I’m too tongue tied, upset, and embarrassed to do anything but stand there like an idiot.

“Well, thanks for looking out for Moose,” he says finally, sounding disappointed all over again.

He lingers as long as politeness allows before letting me know he’ll head to the hospital and check on Sasha himself.

I stand helpless, speechless again as I watch his back turn, slowly moving down the hall.

Moose lingers too, looking from me to his owner, letting out another high pitch whine as his head tilts before choosing to follow his master.

The man I can’t believe just walked into my life and is now walking out again just as quickly.

The man I know I’d let master me any day of the week. Any time. Anyhow.

But once I see his huge frame find the stairwell, not even turning to look back, I know I must’ve imagined the look in his eyes.

Must have been kidding myself a real man like that, a man who could have any woman he wants would even look twice at a younger, chubby girl like me.

Who am I kidding? He probably refers to all women he meets as “pretty” out of politeness because he’s a gentleman.

No man would look at me, let alone someone like Parker.

Never even got his first name.

I want to stay,